


goodbye to bad news

by badAquatic



Series: Trailerstuck [75]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Chronic Illness, F/M, M/M, Major Character Injury, References to Mental Instability, References to Past Mental Abuse, References to Past Physical Abuse, references to past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When there's a knock on the door, Dirk thinks something's gone horribly wrong. He opens the door but what he's greeted with is the last thing he expected. </p><p>Takes place immediately after 'phantom pain'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. red restart

**== >Dirk: Wait things out **

 

You’re doing the usual early morning meditation when there’s a knock at your door. At first you think something’s gone horribly wrong: Karkat’s flipped his shit, humped the wrong person, or is on the floor twitching and cursing in Old Alternian. You get the sword just in case but when you open the door Karkat is grinning at you in the early morning light.

“I made breakfast. You want some?” he says.

You stare at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Karkat?”

Karkat frowns. “Keep up that attitude and you won’t get pancakes.”

You do what pancakes so you squash your skepticism and follow him downstairs. Karkat’s already made eggs so he starts working on the pancake with a skill learned at the Railway since he wasn’t able to cook anything that didn’t already come pre-packaged in a box. When Dave and Jade wake up they’re equally skeptical of Karkat’s good mood but keep their questions to a minimum. You eat the food but keep expecting a flip out…but it never comes. You watch the early morning news with Karkat listening for updates about the bodies found in the Wild Cesspool.

“So,” Dave begins, slowly, “you’re _definitely_ feeling better now…?”

“My heat cycle isn’t over yet but I feel more…I don’t know…” Karkat shrugs, then smiles. “Focused?”

You can’t recall the last time Karkat genuinely smiled without some prodding.

“I think Dirk was right about my grandfather’s memories interfering.” He continues, “Ever since Petros showed up. I’ve been really conflicted. I feel a lot better now.”

“You look better too.” Jade says.

You question if Karkat will confront Meenah about the incident with Gamzee. When you ask Karkat, the mutantblood shakes his head.

“Now’s not the time.” he says, “Meenah’s got a lot on her plate right now between raising grandchildren, helping Feferi, watching out for Jane, and being unemployed. I want to sit down and have a heart to heart with Meenah. That way I know the full story with everything that happened.”

“ _Karkat Vantas_ calmly sitting down and talking to people about problems?” Dave asks, “Are you sure you’re not a clone and the real Karkat’s in a pod somewhere?”

“That, or Karkat’s matured faster over this week than you have in a whole year.” you say, smirking.

“Hey!” Dave says, “I’m _plenty_ mature!”

“You fought me for an _hour_ about eating _flaxseed_.” Jade says.

“I’m not a damn bird is why!” Dave gripes.

Karkat’s face darkens to a cherry red. “It’s just something I was thinking about earlier. Meenah’s my favorite—well my _only_ —aunt and without her I wouldn’t even know who my real father is. I like her and despite her creepy psycho son, I still have to be friends with her. Immediately jumping into situations hasn’t helped me in the past so I’m trying a new strategy.”

When everyone leaves for school, you jump on your husktop. You send a message to Meenah but it’s an hour before you get a response.

 

\--timaeusTestified[TT] began trolling crabbyConquistador at 8:12[CC]!—

\--crabbyConquistador[CC] is active!--

 

CC: sorry bout the delay just had sort of a situation

TT: Everything alright?

CC: um sorta depends on what you consider alright

CC: are things still shitty as always? yea basically

CC: upside is that gamzees done havin his flipout an hes hangin at my place for a while

TT: Please don’t tell me he attacked someone or destroyed something.

CC: nothin too major he just had a super mild flipout compared to what it couldve been if tav hadnt immediately called

TT: What happened?  

CC: gamzees just been in a funky mood lately an his hairs getting longer an its gettin matted an tav wanted him to cut it an he threw a fit so fef had to calm him down

CC: now fefs just trying to detangle his hair an make sure hes calm fore he goes back to tav

TT: Didn’t Gamzee used to get manic like this during winter in Leder?

CC: yea cause matesprit an me would fight more bout bills and heat an other things I mean he was great an I miss him but neither of us were good wit money power and lights would be flickerin all the time

CC: anyway what did you wanna talk about? 

TT: So, you remember how I warned you before about Karkat remembering what happened on Eldritch Night and how he was pissed about it?

CC: yea

CC: dont tell me hes heading my way with a gun

TT: No. Quite the opposite actually. Karkat’s totally relaxed. He still wants to talk to you about the incident but I don’t think it’s going to be the angry screaming match we originally thought it’d be.

CC: or hes calm right now but you never know how a vantasll be once theyre confrontin somethin that pisses em off

CC: i aint scared tho i gotta lot to answer for wit all the shit gamzees pulled

TT: And yet you’re still trying to get his case reopened. You *still* think he didn’t do it?

CC: yea i still think that call me stupid if you want

TT: I don’t think you’re stupid so much as delusional. What makes you think there’s enough reasonable doubt to reopen Gamzee’s case?

CC: cause there were only three people that night that actually saw what happened: eridan karkat an gamzee

CC: an karkat doesnt remember everythin an eridans too scared to talk bout what happened

TT: Dualscar was there.

CC: dualscar wasnt there he was just outside of the swamp grove lookin for eridan when eridan ran out and gamzee was chasin him

CC: eridan was the one who with blood on his hands cause he was said he was tryin to protect karkat but i didnt buy it and i still dont

CC: eridan wouldnt protect his own father for all of my mamas bling

TT: Meenah, we all came when we heard Eridan scream. Gamzee was holding the weapon with Karkat’s blood on it. His fingerprints were all over it even though he insisted he didn’t’ do it.

CC: *several* fingerprints were over the weapon because it had been karkats gamblignant moon scepter he had been parading it around

CC: in fact the scepter got lost durin the night because karkat wouldnt stop showing it off and he wandered off cause he was lookin for it

CC: and dualscar and eridans prints were on it too

TT: Eridan’s fingerprints were on it because he tried to get the weapon from Gamzee when he attacked Karkat. When that failed, he ran and Dualscar successfully got the weapon from Gamzee. Gamzee was trying to attack Eridan after he attacked Karkat.

CC: im not denyin gamzee tried to attack eridan and fuck im not even denyin gamzees violent or bipolar like his dad

CC: what im denying is how dumb people think gamzee is just cause hes sat

CC: fore i met my matesprit in leder i was livin in an abandoned train station with five other trolls and gamzee was just a grub then

CC: and we saw some awful shit in that place

CC: gamzee was a kit when we left but hed be the first to tell you that after you beat the shit outta someone you throw away the weapon if youre scared of bein caught

CC: karkat couldnt even confirm that gamzee was the one in the costume he just said the minotaur attacked him

CC: ANYONE couldve been wearing that getup and we werent the only refugees in the park

CC: gamzee wasnt the only one with motive he was just the most convenient to blame

TT: Meenah, I know Gamzee’s your son but until the conviction is disproven, I wouldn’t go touting his innocence. Even if he was innocent, he’s committed several other crimes since then.

CC: i dont want to nominate him for sainthood dirk i just want to give my son a fighting chance its the least i can do for him since i brought him into this world all fucked up but i cant even get gamzee to talk about what happened since amethyst fucked him up so badly

TT: What would be the point of proving his innocent? He can’t become who he was before or negate what he’s done. Are you doing this for Gamzee or because you feel guilty?

CC: why cant it be both?

TT: Because it rarely is both. I’m not your lawyer and Gamzee’s not my son. I’m just telling you to be careful. That’s all.

CC: fine

 

\--crabbyConquistador[CC] ceased trolling timaeusTestified[TT]!--

 

That conversation could have gone better but it’s a tense topic. You try to keep watching the news but it’s cluttered with updates about the WMS investigation, the rise in anti-Germanium violence, attempts to drain the Neiro Street sinkhole, passing laws about gun control, and finally the bodies find in the Wild Cesspool. By Wednesday Meliak Vantas’ body had been identified as a ‘local business owner’. They still can’t identify the other bodies but they’ve unearthed gun shells, metal bats, and pipes in the mud.

“We can conclude this was the scene of a violent struggle.” says Chief Swan, “We’re not sure about what but it could be gang related given that the area is infamous for illegal activities.”

The reporter attempts to ask about persons of interests but Swan declines to comment. You know some doors are going to get knocked in your neighborhood but you wonder who’s first. The first suspect is Kankri as he was out when the murders were committed but you doubt he has the strength or skill. Only Kurloz, Gamzee, and Petros have the strength and skill but no motivation to kill Meliak or his cronies.

You don’t want to concern yourself with murder. You leave the trailer and head over to the Nitram’s to find the door open and Petros playing COD. You have to step over several cats and bull lusii to get to the couch.

“Are the animals around here _increasing_?” you mutter.

“I usually have a posse wherever I go.” Petros says, a tinkerbull sitting on his shoulder, “You should see the backyard. It’s got like the beginning of _The Lion King_ out there.” He looks at a cat sitting next to him on the couch. “Though, I think some of these cats are Tav’s.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” You pick up a cat and sit next to Petros. “I didn’t know you played COD.”

“Course I do. Gotta do _something_ to do in your down time.” Petros grins, “Moirail and I play this all the time. Sometimes we cosplay at the gaming conventions.” He glances at you. “You know what that’s like.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re telling me the guy with the spiky blonde anime hair and anime shades _doesn’t_ cosplay?”

“My hair is naturally _like_ this!” you huff, “And the shades are a coincidence. They were popular in Leder.” The military police wore designer shades all the time, whether they were curved or pointed. The glasses were just a habit now from that chapter in your life. “Coplay’s not something I ever considered doing.”

“We should totally cosplay because you need to get out more.” 

“I get out fine!”  

“Name the last party you went to and anything where you socialized for ten minutes and then avoided everyone for the rest of the party doesn’t count.”

“I’m not a party person.” You insist, “I guess you could count my wedding as the last party I went to that fits your parameters but it was very small. I hate having to put up with mobs of people.” You pick up a controller. “I want in on the next round.”

“You sure you know how to use that hunk of plastic, old man?”

“Better than you do.”

You never played COD but you’ve watched Jade do it enough times to make an attempt. Petros (and the AI) wipe the floor with you at the first attempts but you keep at it long enough to learn some tricks. You chug Mountain Dew and Doritos as you continue playing. Then you try Halo co-op and spend most of the game running over Petros and your allied AI with the vehicles.

“If I tossed a magnet at you, would it stick?” Petros asks, “I mean between the reinforced ankle, wrist, hip pins, leftover bullets…”

“It might,” You admit, “and shit, can we do something else? My fingers are cramping on me.”

“Is it arthritis? Do you wanna go back to SHEV and clip coupons so you can great savings on bags of Werther’s while you watch Jeopardy?”

“I want to let you know that Jeopardy is fun, Werther’s are delicious, there’s no shame in getting deals, and its bullshit you’re making fun of _my_ age considering you’re _at least_ three times older than me. Also: what’s “SHEV”? Please don’t tell me that’s hip new sex slang all the kids are using these days.”

“SHEV is what Tavros and the other kids call your trailer: Strider Harley English Vantas.” The brownblood smirks. “Though it has great potential to become a sex thing.”

“Oh my fucking god. _No_.”

The door opens and Tavros walks through it with Rufioh following. He looks at you two. “ _Whoa_ , how long have you guys been gaming?”

“Two hours…?” you mutter.

“Dirk, it’s been nine hours.” Petros says, “It’s almost five o’ clock.”

“ _What_?” You look at the wall clock and groan. “Fuck, I lost track of time. I thought it was still the afternoon.”

“I can tell from all the Doritos and Mountain Dew you’ve been drinking.” Tavros says.

You look at the table and see it’s covered with empty bags and bottles. There’s no way you’re getting into bed by ten all sugared up like this.

“Tav,” says Petros, “what do you say to the word ‘SHEV’ referring to the eventual interspecies gangbang that’s going to happen at the SHEV trailer involving Dirk’s adopted waifs?”

“No!” you insist.

“I think that fits.” Tavros says, wobbling to his bedroom.

“The only one I adopted was Dave.” you clarify, “The rest of them just came attached.”

“You’ve essentially adopted Karkat.” Petros snorts, “Admit it, Strider. You’re always on the lookout for sad wittle waifs. You enjoy tucking them under your mama bird wing, cuddling them and feeding them because they have shitty parents.”

“If I’m going to be an animal in this bastardized metaphor, I want to be something manly. Why not a wolf?”

“But your hair already looks like a bird. You’re halfway there.” Rufioh says.

“You can be a manly bird, like an emu.” Petros says.

“Pass.”

You’re both tired of COD though so you leave the trailer to seek substantial food. Unfortunately you’re both picky eaters so finding said food is difficult. Petros won’t eat anything processed and you’re not fond of anything deep fried so your options are limited. After an hour of driving in a circle, you go to Carlos Maraca’s and order tacos while Petros just has lemonade.

“What was this land like when you bought it?” You ask, sipping your smoothie.

“The land?” Petros briefly calculates. “Basically swamp and marshes. Not much else on it. Aniline End was called the Horns and that’s where all the low-income trolls lived if they didn’t want to be in the Squalor and North Aniline End was a part of it. Dockside was the same, Indigo Industries wasn’t as big, the west side of Fairmont Shoppes was still being built…” He sighs. “It’s amazing how places change. When did you come to the UTC?”

“Not until the 2100s. I didn’t even come to New Jack City until 2109 and it was only for a month. I got dropped off in Dadlas and enrolled in a university for robotic engineering. It got boring though so I took more mythology and language classes. It was good foresight though because at the time the factory sector was being outsourced to Leder and Raffil and I got more work as a translator than I did as an engineer.”

Petros rubs his chin. “I’m guessing you speak…four languages?”

You laugh. “I never counted them before. Let’s see I know…Modern Alternian, Old Alternian, Leder Spanish, Leder Portuguese, Sharsi Shongolian, Luscovite Trussian and…I think I can count Ubik Trussian even though I rarely speak it. I just speak Luscovite with an Ubik accent according to some.”

“How do you remember all of that? I can barely manage all the Alternian dialects.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. More people are bilingual in Leder. Roxy speaks more dialects of Shongolian and Spanish than I do. And all the languages I speak are just variations of each other. Modern Alternian is derived from Old, Leder Spanish and Portuguese also have their similarities. Luscovite is just the more formal version of Ubik Trussian. The only standout is Sharsi Shongolian and I didn’t learn that in school.”

“Did Roxy and you only speak Shongolian?”

“No!” you snort, “Roxy hated everything Shongolian when we were married. She’s only nostalgic about it now because of the distance but even then she still hates it. Shongolian ways are the reason we got married and Leder was the reason we stayed together.” You raise your smoothie. “To Leder: fuck that place.”

Petros raises his cup. “Here, here.”

You clink your drinks and pay for the meal with a good tip. You leave on the back of Petros’s motorcycle and find a quiet area along the rocky levee wall. You watch the tide move in and drink the rest of your smoothie.

“Don’t want to go to my place,” Petros says, “Every time I leave it turns into a temporary fuck fest. I go back and everything reeks of pheromones and candle wax.”

“There’s my place.” You offer. Petros grumbles and you add, “Karkat’s heat cycle is done and he’s not acting as crazy as he was before.”

“I don’t know.” Petros folds his arms, leaning against his motorcycle, “The last time I was promised things would be ‘cool’ during someone’s heat cycle, I woke up being humped on.”

“He’s not interested in sex with anyone right now actually.”

“I doubt that.” Petros snorts, “Mutantbloods always say one thing and want the other. It’s why I don’t bother with them.”

“Speaking from history or quads?”

“Auspice says that mutantbloods are unstable emotions concentrated. I don’t want to deal with romantic love triangle bull. That’s not why I’m here.”

You have to tread lightly now because challenging the opinion of a troll’s quadrants are fighting words. “Well that’s their opinion but if I were you, I wouldn’t go mentioning that to Tavros. Kankri, Karkat, and him are all go to group therapy together. Their emotional instability may be circumstantial, not natural.”

Petros pauses and then frowns. “Why does Tavros go to therapy?”

“Rufioh didn’t tell you?”

“It hasn’t come up.”

“It _is_ a difficult thing to talk about.” You admit, still being careful about this topic, “No one knew what happened at first. Tavros disappeared last summer and turned up several months later. We didn’t find out until later he had been pushed into an abusive situation.”

“Where’s the troll that hurt my grandson?” Petros looks serene but his pupils are shrunken. He wants someone’s blood.

“Dead.” you say quickly, before you have to talk Petros out of murder, “Gamzee most likely murdered Hanael and several of his friends for Tavros as no one’s seen them since Tavros and Gamzee became a thing.”

Petros’s expression hasn’t changed but he slowly exhales. “Some things never change. If you want to break up with a vicious troll, you get a _more_ vicious to do it for you.”

“And I killed most of the Capricorn Brotherhood clowns that abused Karkat though I don’t know which ones raped him.” Being unable to prevent Karkat’s abduction is something you’re always going to regret. “He’s been doing better since we severed the connection between him and his grandfather.”

Petros’s eyes open slightly more. “You…” He frowns. “You did what?”

“Karkat has a double set of memories,” you elaborate, “that were interfering with his decisions because, from what I can guess, his grandfather must have felt strongly about you and it was conflicting with him. The opposing emotions were over-stimulating his brain. He’s better now though since he’s taking psionic depressants.”

“Oh…” Petros says and lapses into silence.

“Something wrong?”

“No…” he says distantly, “I was just…thinking about something else. I think what you did is for the best. He can’t handle all those memories.”

He’s distant for the rest of the evening. You know better to pry but you’re curious to know what’s going through that bronze head. Petros and you decide to go to your trailer. When you open the front door you see Karkat folded awkwardly on the futon with his limbs akimbo while Jade is trying to unfold him. Dave is taping the situation and Petros looks as confused as you are.

“Ow! For fuck’s sake!” Karkat yelps.

“Karkat, this wouldn’t be an issue if you’d _relax_.” Jade says.

“How… _what_ …” you mutter.

“Oh my gods.” Petros snickers, “What in the hell happened here? It looks like you tried to reenact something out of the Pail Sutra.”

“Long story short: Karkat and I were doing some yoga,” Jade says, “and he wanted to try the Spleenfowl of Paradise position but his left side locked up again and he got stuck like this.”

“I don’t know what the _Pail Sutra_ is but it sounds like one of those things that gets you on an FPI watch list googling it.” Dave says.

Jade lifts Karkat’s arm. “Maybe if I do this…?”

“My arm isn’t supposed to bend that way!” Karkat yelps in a high voice.

“You _sure_ …?” Jade mutters.  

“How can you not know how _joints_ work, Harley?” Karkat growls.

“I’m not a _doctor_ is why.” Jade huffs.

“We could take him to the emergency room in a luggage bag.” Petros suggests.

“It would be _convenient_.” you say.

“Fuck you both!” Karkat snarls.

“Pretzelkat, the reason why you’re still folded up is because you don’t know how to relax.” Petros says, “I bet I could roll you to the hospital like the world’s most foul-mouthed Katamari and there was nothing you could do about it.”

Karkat manages to unfold his left arm just enough to flip Petros off. “Touch me and you’ll be the one in the emergency room explaining why one of your horns was somehow shoved up your waste chute and not the straight end either.”

Petros smirks. “Looks like you unfolded yourself.”

Karkat rolls his eyes and unlocks his leg with a grunt. He wobbles off the futon and straightens his back. “ _Finally_! Fucking body.”

“I told you it would work out.” Jade says.

“Aw, I was looking forward to taping Bro unfolding you like a chair.” Dave says. The phone rings and he puts down a camera to go get it.

“Where have you guys been all day?” Karkat asks you, “You missed the DD’s big announcement during the evening news.”

“What’s Scrooge McCarapace doing now?” you snort.

“He’s throwing a festival to encourage people not leave the park,” Jade says, “and as a way to keep the Human and Troll Rights Watch Group off his back. He’s promising free food and live music.”

“Oh yeah. He should definitely put his money toward _that_ stupidity and not insulating the trailers better.” you say, rolling your eyes, “Just in time for Winter Holiday too.”

“Mr. Nitram, what are you doing for Winter Holiday?” Jade asks, “Do Alternian trolls even celebrate Winter Holiday?”

“It’s…just Petros.” Petros chuckles, turning bronze in the face. It’s the first time anyone’s called him ‘Mister’. “And I’ll be spending it with my family. We didn’t have an actual winter on Alternia but we did have Twelfth Perigee Eve, even though I never celebrated it. That was more of a mainstream holiday.”

“Really? What did you celebrate?” Jade says, grinning.

“You’re gonna regret indulging her.” Karkat says, “Jade’s a troll culture nerd like Aranea.”

“Am not!” Jade huffs.

Dave walks out of the kitchen, looking jittery, as if he’d woken up with a lusus prod to the ass. “Um. So. Guys. Uh. So it uh, happened and like um…”

“Dave, are you okay?” Jade asks.

“You look like _me_ a couple of days ago…” Karkat mutters.

“Just. Uh. It happened so…” Dave says, holding up the phone like he’s just discovered what it is.

“Take a deep breath before you talk.” You advise.

“Jake’s awake.” Dave blurts out, “The hospital called and said he was muttering all day but they weren’t sure if he was going to wake up but then he opened his eyes. He woke up. What do we do? What…what do…”

“You’re going to take another deep breath.” You say, as gently as possible. Karkat and Jade also look stricken by the news. Your heart is pounding but you have to stay in control. “I’ll go. The rest of you can wait until morning.”  

“Bro--” Dave begins.

“ _Dave_ ,” you say, “Jake was unconscious for almost two weeks. He’s going to be tired and too many people would overwhelm him. I’m going to check on him. That’s all.”

Dave nods. You know he wants to see Jake but he’s not in the best condition for it.

Petros pats you on the shoulder. “Told you he’d be fine.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, your sass and animal senses were right.”

Petros leaves the trailer and so do you. You get in the truck and head for the hospital. Your heart pounds and says with each thump: _Jake’s awake. Jake’s awake. Jake’s_ finally _awake…_


	2. all you need is love

**== >Jake: Wake up **

 

You don’t believe the nurse when she tells you you’ve been out for nearly two weeks. You’re hungry and thirsty but other than that you’re feeling perfectly fine. Your right arm is in a cast so you need to use your left to take the cup of water she offers you. Your fingers are clumsy though and don’t easily grasp it.

“You should count your blessings, Mr. English.” says the nurse, “The doctor thought you’d be unconscious for the rest of November.”

“We’re made tougher in Young Britain.” The left side of your face itches. You scratch it and feel cloth covering swollen skin. “Why is my eye’s covered?”

The nurse looks nervous while she checks your vitals. “Well,” she begins, “you were beaten very badly, Mr. English. Your ribs are still healing and you’re lucky your lung didn’t collapse after it was a punctured, but your arm and hand still have a long way to go. Not to mention your kneecap--”

Her avoiding your question raises a flag. You try to move your left eye in the socket but can’t. “What happened to my eye?”

“Well…” the nurse begins, “…you know how some people have two eyes? You’re not one of them anymore.”

Her weak attempt at humor bounces off of you. “… _what_?” You touch the swollen area and feel it slightly decompress. There’s nothing in there. Your eyeball is gone. Your mouth goes dry and your stomach heaves. “Oh my gods.”

“Now, Mr. English,” The nurse says, calmly, “the doctors did all they could but you punctured your eye. There was no way to save it and we couldn’t install anything artificial without your consent. Your insurance didn’t cover cloned eyes--”

You don’t know how to respond. Your eye is gone. It’s just… _gone_. What about your depth perception? How is this going to affect your shooting? You yank the sheets off and look at your bandaged leg. “What about my leg again…?”

“I-I don’t know all the details.” The nurse admits. She at your chart and says, “The cartilage in your knee is torn so you’ll have trouble walking for--”

“The rest of my life.” You conclude. Once you get a knee injury, the leg is done for. “Fuck.”

The nurse tries to stay upbeat. “Your husband knows you’re awake and is on his way. He’s been here every day to see you.” She chuckles. “I wish my boyfriend was as loyal.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Knowing that Dirk’s been here day after day makes your stomach clench. There’s no way you deserve that much loyalty. What if Dave’s with him? You can’t clearly recall the last time you saw _him_. Your mind’s in a fog when you think of the Cherub’s attack.

Thankfully, Dirk shows up alone. The nurse leaves you alone and he takes off his shades. The bags under his eyes are more prominent now.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” Dirk asks; a slight warble to his voice.

You smile. “Not like I’ve ever turned down a hug before.”

 

 

Dirk tries not to hug you too tightly even though you know he wants to. He doesn’t bond easily but when he does he holds on like a lusus with their child. You kiss him. “Sorry about my breath.”

Dirk smiles, kissing your forehead. “I don’t care if your breath smells like the grave, Jake. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

That makes you laugh. “I wish I could say I missed you too but I had no idea I was even gone to begin with!”

“You’re back now. That’s all that matters.” Dirk insists, kissing you again. “How’s your arm and leg?”

“Arm’s bloody itchy,” you admit, “and painkillers have numbed my leg.”

“You’ll have to do physical therapy before you can come home.” Dirk says.

You snort. “I can blaze through physical therapy. I’ll be home in no time.”

Dirk doesn’t share your optimism. “Jake, don’t push yourself. The point is for you to recover. It’s not a competition.”

You frown. “But I want out of this disease nest and back home with you.”

Dirk pats your right hand. “You can’t come home until you feel better but I’ll still visit every day and I’m sure others will too.” 

You sigh. You’ve only been awake for thirty minutes and you already want to leave. “What about my eye?”

Dirk rubs the back of his head. “The insurance won’t cover a clone without a long fight. I think the best alternative is to get a cybernetic or go without.”

“I need _both_ my eyes if I’m going to keep shooting like before, love.” You huff, “How long does it take to install a replacement?”

“Takes about a week to manufacture a replacement once the measurements are taken.” Dirk says, “The implantation surgery takes a day but then there’s weeks of observation and a month to properly calibrate it. You’ll have to get used to it reacting a few seconds slower than your previous eye.”

“And my leg?”

Dirk leans against you, “The knee’s fucked up. Even with physical therapy, pins, and surgery, it’ll never be the same. You’ll have to walk with a cane for the rest of your life or--”

“Have it amputated and replaced with a cybernetic.”

“There’s no pressure to do that.” Dirk insists, “It’s not a big deal to me if you need a cane, Jake.”

“Dirk. Please.” You smile. “I’d rather tolerate a metal leg than be unable to run.”

“It’s not that easy.” he argues, “Your leg will be amputated and then the doctor has to wait for the swelling to go down before they can attach the cybernetic. You’ll be back in the hospital for three to four weeks. Some people don’t completely adjust to the change.”

“I can handle it.” you insist, “I want to be out of here by Winter Holiday. I can wait for the amputation and attachment until January.”

Dirk frowns. You can tell by the look in his eyes he wants you home but he doesn’t want to rush you. “Let’s agree on this,” he sighs, “If you can climb the stairs to our trailer, then you can come home.”

You grin. “Do I get to make love to you for six hours as reward?”

Dirk kisses you. “One thing at a time.”

“Is that a yes…?”

Dirk pinches your cheek. “ _No_. It’s an ‘I’m tolerating this because I missed you’, Jake. Also, let’s not test the physical limits of your body. I’d hate to have to explain to the doctor how you popped your stitches because you wanted sex.”

“I think that’s a perfectly viable excuse.” you insist.

“It _really_ isn’t.”

You hold him close and stay like that until it gets too late and even Dirk starts nodding off. It’s hard watching him leave and you have nothing to distract from the aching desire to return home. By some miracle, you don’t cry.

The next morning makes you ache for home even more though. Your doctor is a young rustblood and keeping you on a liquid low fat diet. You consider having to drink broth to be a punishment more than being stuck in the hospital. The doctor talks at length about how you’re healing. As expected, everything is improving accept for your knee.

When you tell her you want a cybernetic, she nods. “My idea is that you go home as soon as possible and come here for the surgery.”

You couldn’t agree with that idea even more. After that the doctor tests the strength of your injured leg (which is still weak), she estimates two weeks before you’re allowed out of the hospital. Dirk visits at ten but this time Karkat, Dave, and Jade come along. Jade is bearing cards, DVDs, and a giant stuffed bear.

“I made sure the bear smells like Dirk!” Jade says.

“Which is weird.” Karkat adds.

“She rubbed it against me and then sprayed it with my cologne.” Dirk mutters.

“You don’t wear cologne.” you say, taking the golden bear. You sniff it. “It does smell familiar.”

“It’s the, uh,”—Dirk’s face reddens—“cologne from that date we had…”

“You mean the one that _wasn’t_ a total disaster?” you laugh.

“I’m guessing that was the one you had sex.” Karkat says.

Dave blanches, as he always does when he thinks about you doing his brother.  “We’re just glad you’re in one piece.” he mutters.

“I’m in one piece but not everything’s in working order.” You sigh, “My leg’s busted, right arm is still healing, and my left eye is gone.”

Dirk grins. “You look very handsome with an eye patch.”

You smirk. “I would’ve made a great gamblignant. Oh, speaking of crooks, I saw the DD on TV talking about some winter festival in our neighborhood near a sinkhole. When did a sinkhole open up?”

Karkat looks sheepish. “ _Well_ …”

“Rose sunk John’s trailer with black magic.” Dave says. You expect this to be one of Dave’s exaggerations but no one contradicts it. He continues explaining the sinkhole situation, concluding with: “So the DD is throwing a party to distract people from how shitty the Ninth Ward is on the first of December. Something to ‘kick off’ the holiday season as he puts it.”

“Sounds delightful! I want to see!” you say.

“‘Delightful’?” Dirk grumbles, “This is the asshole slumlord who owns most of the Ninth Ward and you want to go to his stupid festival?”

“Oh, it’s destined to be a disaster but I’d like to see on what scale.” you say, “My sense of schadenfreude would go unsatisfied if I didn’t attend.”

“We’ll see…” Dirk says, patiently.

The rest of them catch you up on everything else: Petros’s reappearance, organized crime dissipating, the recent murders, and the increase of lusii in the neighborhood. At the end of the visit Dave and you are left alone in the room.

“You’re going to be half machine after all the surgery.” Dave says, “Better. Faster. Stronger. More British.”

“If I become too suave and British, your brother would be in jail for murdering all the people that can’t keep their hands off of me.” You laugh.

Dave snickers but then frowns. “So, uh, about before…when you saved me from that _thing_ …”

“ _Dave_.” you interrupt, “No offense but you seriously underestimate how much I care for you. I would jump between you and ten monsters. In fact I’d jump between _anyone_ and danger. You, Dirk, Karkat, Jade, Jane… _anyone_.” You smile. “It’s just what I do.”

Dave’s face reddens but he nods. “I hope your kid likes you as much as I do.”

He leaves after that. You miss them the minute they’re gone so you occupy yourself with strengthening your muscle. You read the pamphlets and print-outs about cybernetic prosthetic surgery and maintenance. The graphic details are mildly intimidating but you’re not to be daunted.  

Physical therapy is difficult. It’s a lot more painful and awful than getting the shit kicked out of you. Your leg is stiff and it’s hard to do the exercises with just one arm but you don’t care. You ignore the pain when you can and take painkillers when it gets to be too much. The week goes by quickly because you’re determined not to stay in the hospital. Family and friends visit bringing gifts. You’re especially glad to see Jane and Roxy, although seeing Jane’s scars sends pangs of guilt through you.

“ _Gods_ , Jane…” you mutter, “I’m…so sorry.”

Jane smiles as much as she can. Her face must still hurt because it’s closer to a grimace. “It’s much worse than it looks, Jake, and it’s not like I have to worry about looks. I was already married.”

“I think she looks hotter with the scars,” Roxy says, “and Janey should tell whoever says different that she got them fighting a crazed cybernetic and ripped their face off.”

“I didn’t do _that_.” Jane insists, “That woman yanked her _own_ face off after I burned it. That I _did_ do.” She adds that last part with some pride.

“It still shouldn’t have happened to you.” you sigh, “Do you know what happened to--”

“Jade shot Joan to death,” Roxy says, “and that… _thing_ …was shot to death by some black coats. It took more than a hundred bullets to bring it down.”

You inhale sharply. Joan was emotionally unstable. She was bound to self destruct but still, you feel pity for her and Jade. “I always thought I would be the one to kill her,” you whisper, “I wouldn’t want Jade to bear that weight of killing her mother.”  

“Joan was as much Jade’s mother as mine was to me.” Roxy snorts.

You nod. “But it must still trouble her.”

“I’m sure that whole night troubles _all_ of us.” Jane says quietly.

You change the subject to what they have planned for Gobblebeast Day. You usually sit around the trailer eating pizza and watching the game. When they leave you go back to working on walking. You manage to walk a little on crutches and the doctor insists that you’re making good progress as being able to walk around after your injury (even a little) is still significant.

It doesn’t feel that way. You want to go home.

You work harder at physical therapy but by Tuesday you’re exhausted and sore. You spend Wednesday in bed watching Winter Holiday specials. You should be watching them at home but you can’t leave yet. It doesn’t put you in a good mood for Thursday. You’re starting to wonder if physical therapy is improving anything.

The nurse takes your vitals and puts a leg brace on you. The brace itches but you can walk around the room without getting winded or asking for aspirin.

The nurse grins. “I can’t speak for the doctor but I think that’s enough to convince her to let you go home.”

“I don’t know…” You sigh. You don’t want to get excited and then have to stay in the hospital.

The doctor visits you an hour later in your room. She talks with the nurse, observes your charts, and then approaches you. She hands you a printed out guide detailing home care for your leg and arm along with exercises.

“Merry Winter Holiday, Mr. English,” she says, “Looks like you’re spending it with your family.”

“R-really…?” You say, voice quivering.

“Do you want to call your husband? You’ll be discharged tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah…” You smile at the doctor. “Thank you.”

“ _You_ were the ones that did most of the work.” The doctor pats you on the shoulder. “Take care, Mr. English.”

She leaves and you immediately dial the phone. Trembling, you call your husband with the good news.


	3. blackest night

**== >Jake: Be Karkat ten hours into the future **

“I’m freezing my balls off.” Dave says for the hundredth time.

“I’m freezing my bulge _and_ nook off, you dick.” You grunt, “Why in the hell are we doing this?”

“Because _tradition_ , crabby.” Dave answers.

You have no idea why you’re indulging Dave in this stupid tradition. You’re standing outside of Super-Walmart in a long ass line that stretches halfway down the Fairmont Shoppes mini mall. John should be the one out here tolerating the cold but he’s _still_ not on speaking terms with Dave. Jade would be here but her feet are swelling, so the responsibility’s fallen on you. The only plus is that Dave paid for drinks and doughnuts since the doors don’t open until midnight and its ten now.

“You didn’t have to come.” Dave says, sipping his coffee.

“Like _hell_ you’re going by yourself, Strider.” You snort, drinking your hot chocolate, “This is Black Friday and _Walmart._ Someone will _definitely_ trample you trying to get a Tickle-Me Cal or Melon Patch Doll. What are you even getting here that couldn’t wait until sensible hours?”

Dave unfolds a crinkled Walmart ad from his jacket and points to a section he circled. “It’s fifty percent off on maternity and baby stuff. And there’s a barrel of games that are five bucks each.”

“I wish they sold sex toys here…” you grunt.

“I thought you were being celibate?”

“I’m celibate, not _dead._ ” You grunt, “Sometimes you want something up your nook. No strings attached.” A human woman gives you a dirty look and you glare at her. “What are _you_ looking at? Just cause you don’t want to talk about your body doesn’t mean I can’t. I have a fucking heat cycle to deal with every couple of months, _lady_.”

“I thought your heat cycle was over?”

“It _is_ over but the hormone pills cause…hot flashes.”

“You know, hot flashes mean something _very_ different to humans.”

“Well that’s what _I_ call it when I wanna grind on something!” you huff.

“Hey idiot!” You turn to see Sollux laughing. He’s bundled up in a coat and scarf with Aradia next to him. He nudges the rustblood, “Ten years and he _still_ falls for that.”

“What are you doing here, toothy?” you sigh.

“Deals. _Duh_.” Sollux walks over, holding up the same ad Dave has, “There’s deals on grub toys videogames. Gods know we’re going to need a lot of toys at my place.”

Aradia flexes her muscles. “And I’m here to knock away assholes with _these_.”

“She wanted an excuse to leave Equius’s early because her in-laws are _still_ there.” Sollux snickers. Aradia punches him in the shoulder and yellowblood winces.

“ _Still_?” Dave says, “Do they have inexhaustible arguing power?”

“They actually stopped arguing early this year.” Aradia sighs, “Most of the time was spent fawning over how cute Themma is. It’s amazing how a grub can interrupt even the most belligerent arguers. Then Aranea announced she was pregnant and--”

“Aranea’s pregnant? _For fuck’s sake!_ Why do people keep humping?” you groan.

“That’s rare isn’t it?” Dave asks, “Two coldbloods reproducing?”

“Yeah, I’m happy for them because this means they won’t come over as much.” Aradia says.

“Hey!” says a man, “You can’t cut in line!”

“They’re not cutting, asshole. We’re _talking_.” You growl.

“Back of the line, chumps!” says a lady.

“They’ll go to the back when we’re done talking, fuck face!” you snarl, showing your teeth.

A lot more people grouse but they’re not willing to physically fight you due to your size. There are plenty of people breaking the rule for friends and family. Aradia talks with Dave about their collections of dead things in jars (gross) so you shoot the shit with Sollux.

“How’s your Mom doing?” you ask.

Sollux frowns. “It’s not cancer but it’s not good either. The cadmium in her body is destroying her kidneys. Our insurance doesn’t want to pay for a hospital stay or assisted home care so we’re fighting with them. I tried looking at other plans but there’s nothing we can afford or apply to us right now. TZ’s still talking to the legal guys about dealing with DynamiCHEM.”

He looks so powerless admitting that. “Mit’s not taking it so well. He doesn’t to leave Mom’s side at all. I have to drag him away so he can eat and do other things instead of focusing on her. Eridan’s trying to watch over Mom but he’s going to start working soon so”—he shrugs—“who knows?”

That must be why he’s looking for videogames, so he can help Mituna cope with his matesprit’s deteriorating condition. “It’s been a shitty year. I can’t wait until it’s over.”

“We got one more month to go, KK.” People in the front of the line start hooting and cheering. “Think they’re opening the doors.” He grins. “You ready for the mob?”

“I was hatched ready.” you whisper.

Once the doors open all hell breaks out. People break from the line and charge the doors. Employees that move too slow get knocked out of the way in the shopping frenzy. You see a tiny yellowblood hit the floor in the stampede’s way. Channeling the spirit of Mufasa, you grab their hand and yank them out of the stampede’s way. Then you leave them on the sidelines to rejoin Dave. Dave and you weave through the aisles, avoiding the crazies heading for the electronics sections like Aradia and Sollux. The maternity and baby section isn’t crowded but the people are still excited. Two women are wrestling over a package of ten pacifiers. You duck as one of them whips out mace and sprays the shit out of the other before taking off.

“Oh my gods, are you okay?” you ask the woman.

If the woman went temporarily blind that was inconsequential compared to the murderous rage on her face. _“I am gonna murder that bitch!”_ She roars and chases after the other woman, _“Those are my baby’s pacifiers, you whore!”_

The woman disappears down another aisle, hunting with the ferocity of any highblood.

You return to looking for Dave. “Strider, where in the fuck are you?”

“Up here!” You look up and see that Dave has scaled the sales racks and is clinging to the top like a lemur. His free arm holds a bag of diapers by the handle. “Catch!”

“Strider, don’t you dare throw that— _fuck_!” You dash to grab the diapers and glare up at him. “You fucking suck!”

“I’m tossing down the pregnancy kit!” Dave adds.

You curse and yell at Dave while you catch items like the world’s lamest live action videogames. You secure an abandoned shopping cart while Dave climbs down. You then race down the other aisles, avoiding the more crazed customers. You pass by some hapless security guards attempting to break up a four-way fight involving a DVD player. One of the guards threatens to call the police but no one acknowledges them. You wonder if the Culling Games on Alternia were just as competitive.

You get into the ridiculously long line, guarding your precious items and glaring at anyone who looks at it too long; like a prehistoric cave troll coveting their precious kill.

“What are you doing for Winter Holiday?” Dave asks.

“No idea.” you sigh, “My family was never big on Winter Holiday. Cronus worked double shifts and Kankri was sleeping off a hangover. I’ll just give people their gifts.”

Winter Holiday is usually a time to be with your matesprit but you refuse to focus on that. If you want something to snuggle, you’ll hug Sonny Jr.

You (eventually) get through the line, load the gifts into the car, and return home. You don’t see Sollux or Aradia but you assume they got out intact. You have to sneak all the items into the trailer so you don’t wake up Jade and hide them in the baby room closet.

“Are you wrapping any of this?” you ask.

“Nah. These are just surprises for Jade.” Dave says, “Jade doesn’t want maternity stuff for Winter Holiday. I got her a real gift. It should be here in a week.”

You grin. “Is it from a certain website where the dragons are mischievous?”

Dave shudders. “I really hope I don’t end up on some pervert watch list because I bought something from there.”

“I demand to see what ridiculous thing you ordered for Jade. I hope it’s annoyingly colored and has two prongs.” Dave groans and you laugh louder. “Did you get me anything?”

“A new sense of fashion.” Dave rolls his eyes. “I’m not _telling_ you what I got. You’ll just have to wait until Winter Holiday and no, it’s _not_ penetrating me.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for that!” you laugh.

“You were thinking it. You get this _look_ in your eyes whenever you think about humping me.”

You grin. “Is it the same look you give me?”

Dave doesn’t answer that but his ears go red. You finish putting everything away and crawl back into bed. Sonny Jr. climbs on top of you and you don’t shove him off (even though he needs a bath).

You wake up to laughter and conversation. You stumble out of the bedroom to see Jake sitting on the couch with Dirk snuggled on him. You blink because at first you’re not sure if this is a hallucination or not. Jake has a brace on his leg, a cane, and an eye patch but it’s still him. His legs and arms are also totally shaven which makes him look ten years younger.

“Karkat! Odd that _you’re_ the first one up!” Jake laughs.

You rub your eyes. “Dave and I did Black Friday. What time is it…?”

“Almost twelve.” Dirk says pleasantly. If he was troll he’d be purring now. He doesn’t even care that you’re in the room.

Seeing them reminds you of your flush-empty situation but you smile anyways. You should be happy for them. “Glad you’re home, Jake. I’ll go kick Dave awake.”

“Don’t make him get up if he’s really tired.” Jake says.

“He’ll want to see you.” you say.

Poking at Dave with your toe doesn’t get him up but licking his neck does. He yelps and falls out of bed which makes the whole thing _very_ worth it. Jade also wakes up from hearing Dave hit the floor. Dave leaves the bedroom, takes one look at Jake, and almost falls down again. You have to steady him since Jade can’t.  

“Holy shit.” Dave says, “Jake, what are you doing out of the hospital? Like, what about your leg and--”

“I’m good.” Jake says, tapping his metal brace. “Have to go back in for surgery but until then I’m home to harass your brother and eat his food.”

“Karkat’s currently the cook.” Dirk chuckles.

“I _like_ cooking since that’s what I _was_ doing for a living.” You insist.

You make lunch for everyone and while watching TV your iHusk vibrates. You see that Trollbook had an update of Nepeta posting an olive grub in a lion suit.

 

 

“Nepeta’s grub hatched.” You tell the others.

Jade looks at the picture. “Aw, look at how cute she is in the little lion suit!”

You look at the Trollbook comments concerning the grub. “They’re a boy.”

“A male oliveblood? That’s rare.” Dirk says.

“He’s going to grow up thinking he’s a _very_ flat-chested girl.” Dave snickers, “Just kind of like how Kankri thinks Karkat is a— _ow_!”

You hit Dave in the shoulder. “I’m a _dude_. The heftsacks mean nothing and if you want to keep _touching_ them, you’ll shut your sasshole.”

“If we’re being honest, breasts are a poor indicator of gender.” Dirk says.

The rest of Nepeta’s Trollbook updates are of Simham and his misadventures with Gamzee and Kurloz. You’re still not used to Kurloz’s new look sans giant hair, paint, and necklaces.

A commercial for the DD’s nephew comes on. He looks a lot like the DD but to you _most_ carapaces look alike. He’s wearing a slick suit and (of course) has a lot of promises about improving New Jack City.

“You know I just realized something,” Jade says, “the DD always supports his nephews and nieces but you never hear about his own kids.”

“He’s a widow, I think.” Dirk says, “His family’s from Leder though. When the Ortiza Riots happened, he made sure his family had a place to stay. He came over when the Red Cross did and made sure there were trailers for Leder refugees.”  

“Too bad he’s an asshole otherwise.” Dave grunts.

 

December 1st is a Monday so the DD’s special festivities don’t start until early evening. Jade picks Dave and you up from school, picks up Jake and Dirk, and drives down the street. Dirk makes sure to bring your own chairs but you’re not prepared for the mob of people on Neiro Street. Everyone in the neighborhood is present along with the local news. There’s also a crowd of police making sure no one’s getting trampled or pick-pocketed. There’s a large purple and gold stage set up on the Egbert property directly over the sinkhole. On the opposite side of the street are grills offering hot dogs and hamburgers and carts dispensing hot chocolate and egg nog from carts.

Terezi walks over to you, pushing Latula in a wheelchair. You hardly recognize the older tealblood with her sallow cheekbones and stringy hair. She’s wrapped in several blankets but still shuddering.

Terezi must be hearing your thoughts because she says, “Mom wanted to see this.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Latula chuckles.

“I don’t think anyone would.” you say.

“The stage looks nice at least.” Terezi says.

The curtain opens and a small band of teenage carapaces sit in chairs wearing purple and gold uniforms. They look gaudy and ridiculous, which you guess suits the DD. The DD walks onto the stage, wearing a designer suit with gold lapels and the ‘DD’ monogram over the heart. He approaches a microphone in the front of the stage.

“I would like to thank you for attending the first annual Ninth Ward Winter Festival.” the DD says, “Our neighborhood has endured a lot this year. In this time of tribulation, we could all use a little festivity to brighten our souls. Let us all remember this blessed season. A season of miracles in which…”

It’s around there you start zoning out. You’re standing with Dave on one side and Terezi on the other.

“Does he seriously think people buy this?” you mutter.

Terezi scans the crowd. “I’m not seeing anyone cheering but no one’s booing either.”

“No one’s booing because they’re too busy stuffing their faces.” Kankri says, walking over. He’s wearing an egg sling and has his mouth wrapped around a hotdog.

“Look who’s talking.” You snort.

“It’d be a waste to turn down a free hotdog!” Kankri huffs.

“Like you need _anymore_ meat on those…” You pause when you notice Kankri has gained weight around the hips and stomach, “Kankri, you look sort of…”

Kankri smirks. “Pregnant?”

Your jaw slackens. “You’re _not_.”

Kankri grins. You get ready to shout but the stereos screech, drawing your attention back to the stage. A carapace teen blares on a trumpet, starting the performance. The music could be worse but your standards are low. Twenty minutes of average classic music later a chubby little carapace girl dances onto the stage with a ribbon baton. She twirls it around and is joined by two other dancing carapaces.

You come to one conclusion: “This is _awful_. How much more of this _is_ there…?”

“If this is how you feel during _this_ performance, I don’t know how you’re going to sit through kindergarten plays.” Dave says, holding his camera as he’s determined to record this travesty for ‘ironic reasons’.

“Is the stage supposed to be wobbling like that?” Kankri mumbles.

You turn your attention back to the stage. The stage is shakes slightly with every hop and twirl. It’s not until a fourth carapace bounds onto the stage that the shuddering become prominent enough to make the other girls stumble. The music players skip a few notes and fear shows up on a few faces.

“ _That’s_ not supposed to happen…” Dave says.

“It’s too much weight.” Terezi says, alarmed, “They need to get off that stage.”

The stage continues wobbling and the crowd also become alarmed. You join in the shouting of “Stop!” and “Get off the stage!” at the performers. The DD must misinterpret the yells because he moves from offstage to center to defend his relatives’ lousy playing. The stage gives another hazardous tremble and that’s when the kids decide to bail. They abandon their instruments and jump off the stage; tucking and rolling. The stage is still shaking and you hear metal creaking. The people closest to the stage back up into the street.

“Hey, get back! I paid you for the whole hour!” the DD yells into the microphone, “Get your asses back here or--”

A loud _crack_ vibrates in the air. The stage collapses and wood and fabric rain down on the DD. The structure falls into the mud and the sinkhole’s black mud drinks it in. Police blow on whistles, shoving people out of the way to get a clear path.

“Mr. Dowry! Mr. Dowry, can you hear us?” calls one of the officers.

Three zealous officers try to navigate the mud and get sucked down, so it then becomes a rescue operation for them. People start whipping out their iHusks, snapping picture or recording the accident. No hurries to move or help. Even the nieces and nephews are a mix of stricken and determined to record this.

“Holy _shit_.” you breathe.  

“Is he…?” Kankri mutters.

“He couldn’t have survived. Not in _that_ mud.” Jade whispers.

“ _Well_ ”--Latula wetly coughs into a tissue and wipes her mouth--“there but for the grace of the gods.”

The police start taping off the area and telling people to head home as the festival was unceremoniously over. You join your friends and family in congregating at Kankri’s trailer; crowding around the TV to see the news coverage. The reporters are passionate and so are the nieces and nephews (who have managed to work up some devastated tears for cameras). Cranes drive to the sinkhole and tethered workers plod through the mud.

“They didn’t move that fast when the trailer sunk.” Kankri snorts, now eating a sandwich.

“Even if they did, there’s no point.” Dirk says, “There’s too much debris in the way. He was dead the minute that stage collapsed.”

“Who the hell thought it was a good idea to build a stage over a _godsdamned_ _sinkhole_?” Roxy asks.

“The DD did and now he’s dead.” Tavros says.

“We don’t _know_ if he’s dead.” Sollux says.

“He’s not walking anytime soon. That’s for sure.” Jane says.

The live coverage continues as chunks of wood and muddied curtain are pulled from the muck. The wood is still falling apart from the impact; splintering into smaller, jagged pieces. Workers in yellow and white throw the remains into the street as they make a clearing.

“Look at those cheap materials.” Jake shakes his head, “No wonder it collapsed. He may as well have been standing on balsawood.”

“Gods…oh gods…” Eridan stammers. He’s staring at the screen and trembling.

“You alright?” you ask.

Eridan continues breathing heavy and not talking. Sollux tries to take his hand but he yanks it away.

“I’m fine!” he chokes, “I’m alright. I was close to the stage.” He moves sweat plastered hair out of his eyes. He squeezes his dodecagram star. “That’s all.”

“Oh god.” Nepeta says, holding a squirming Simham, “The _body_ …”

The workers finally unearth the DD’s body. He’s been pierced with broken metal and wood, crushed and mangled like an ant under a boot heel. Jade and you cringe, the blood drains from Dave’s face, Nepeta covers Simham’s eyes, Eridan leaves for the bathroom, and everyone else inhales and avoids looking directly at the screen. The news report abruptly cuts from the footage of the DD’s body and starts talking about who will own the park now, who’ll take charge of the businesses, and so on.

“I wonder where they’ll hold his funeral…” Aradia says.

“What’ll happen now?” Mituna asks.

“Do we have to still pay rent?” Porrim asks, sounding hopeful.

“I’m sure we will still have to do that.” Rufioh says.

“Maybe one of the relatives will take ownership of the park?” Dave asks.

“Which ones?” Petros snorts, “All those nieces and nephews I saw were little kids. They’re not old enough to manage this place.”

“The DD _has_ to have older relatives.” you ask, “What about his brothers or sisters?”  

“I think the ones that are in ‘the business’ already have their own commitments.” Kankri says, polishing off his sandwich.

<<HOW CAN YOU STAND TO EAT AFTER SEEING A DEAD BODY, KANKRI?>> Kurloz asks.

“Because you _put_ me in this situation, ass clown.” Kankri growls.

<<FUCK YOU.>> Kurloz growls.

“Please do not start making out again.” Terezi sighs.  

“Gods, what a fucking day.” you groan, “Let’s order pizza or something. I’m crazy hungry and I didn’t get a hot dog.”

“We may as well celebrate.” Dave says.

Meenah grins. “Ding dong, the witch is dead.”

No one complains about being callous concerning the DD’s sudden and violent death. After living in the park for so long you all agree that he long since had it coming.


	4. epilogue: searching for meaning in the cold world

**== >Karkat: Be Eridan at the moment**

Seeing the corpse overwhelms you and you leave for the bathroom. You had been close to the stage during the collapse but not for the performance. You wanted to see how long it would stand before the forces in the sinkhole tore it down. It was tempting fate to build over that accursed land. Seeing the DD’s body only reminds you of the tortured bodies illustrated in the Book of Minos; the offerings to those blasphemous and dark gods.

You gag and heave but nothing comes up. Kanaya enters the bathroom, frowning. “Are you alright?”

You inhale slowly and move away from the toilet. “Just felt dizzy for a minute.”

Kanaya still looks worried. She’s always worried about you and you question if that’s all your relationship is: Kanaya mothering you because you’re a pathetic little fish. Would she still flush you if you had your father’s swagger?

Then you remember your father’s historically famous (or infamous) romantic swagger was drummed up by romantic writers and poets who never met him. Your father’s colleagues hated him and only kept him around for their amusement, like a violet dunce. So he became a bully and a tyrant to those who wouldn’t fight back. Cronus was also the group dimwit so he became a bully to cope. Now he’s frequently consumed with guilt about his past and makes up for it with passivity and self-sacrifice.

Is that your fate: bullying, tyranny, and then submissiveness?

Or (as with your father): death?

You realize you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror for several minutes. You smile at Kanaya so she doesn’t worry. “I’m alright, Kan. Just a shock is all.”

She touches your face. “There’s no such thing as demons. Sinkholes have been opening up in the trailer park for years. You didn’t _create_ one.”

You touch her hand. “That’s what you believe, but I know something happened. I felt something. _Saw_ something. I just don’t know what.”

“You’ve been acting weird since you found that book.” Kanaya says, “I _told_ you not to go reading out of it.”

“Yeah…” you acknowledge, “A lot happened.”

You don’t know if it’s all bad though. Yes, you were terrified by demons, haunted by nightmares, but the event shook something loose. You’ve spoken with Damara at length about your unsettled feelings and now, you think you understand.

You need to stop running from your fears. You ignored your father’s illness, you ran when he begged for death, you lied and stole not for the greater good but out of fear. You tried so hard to follow in your father’s footsteps that you have no identity to stand on.

You look at the dodecagram star around your neck and question what in the hell you’re doing. Your father raised you a Traditionalist but how much do you _really_ believe? It’s been months and you haven’t taken the pledge to Blood and Haze. Would a true devotee wait this long? Damara was seventeen when she dedicated. You’re still waiting for the ‘appropriate moment’ but it hasn’t come.

It may never come.

This isn’t the time to be concerned with it. You rejoin the people in the living room and see that the impromptu meeting has become a party. You all seem to gather together when something drastic happens. You’re not in a socializing mood though. You listen to the other conversations and try not to be concerned with your dark thoughts…until you overhear Feferi and Nepeta.

“Whatever happened to that heathen book?” Feferi asks.

Nepeta shudders. “I tried to keep it in my room but it creeped me out too much. Keeping it in the house felt… _wrong_ so I buried it.”

Hearing that startles you. She buried it? She _buried_ the Book of Minos? The book was evil but it isn’t something you callously _bury_. You conceal your offense though and continue eavesdropping but Feferi changes the subject. Shit.

Every time you think about the Book of Minos, you can only recall that dread ritual and Sollux’s wish. You think of Latula: your possible half-sister, grandmother to one of your kids, whose life is steadily draining away. You’ve tried not to obsess about her condition but it’s hard when you live with her.

You leave the party early with Sollux. Mituna pushes Latula’s wheelchair through the mud, trying to avoid the rocks and garbage. You don’t have the funds for a handicap accessible van this is the best you can do. You make sure with Sollux that no one is sneaking up on Mituna or Latula to rob them of their meds or money.  

 

 

“It’s a nice night.” Latula says.

“Yeah,” Mituna agrees.

“Tuna,” she whispers, “if I die, it’s alright if you find someone else.”

“Nah,” Mituna shakes his head and says with surprising clarity, “I don’t wanna fuck up someone else’s life.”

Latula doesn’t argue further.

You go home and help Latula into bed. She’s a lot easier to take care of than your father but you wish you could do more. You try to sleep but you can’t. You get out of the ‘coon and check on the eggs. They haven’t changed. Suxxor won’t hatch for two more weeks and Dmitry hatches next month. You make sure Dmitry is cold but other than that they don’t need you. Your chest aches and you feel like crying.

You need to clear your head so you take a walk. The cold air makes you think back to the nights you spent walking down the road in nothing but a skirt and heels. If you become a true follower of Blood and Haze, you’d be back out on the street earning. Do you want that? Do you want your kids to know that you’re a prostitute? That even though it’s for your god, you’re still debasing yourself for money?

Were they even _your_ gods to begin with? They didn’t protect you from the ritual or from getting the shit kicked out of you. Yeah, Damara saved you from bleeding to death but just so she could take some of your money. Nothing is ever free in the old religion.

You walk past the Makara-Leijon trailer and consider the book. It’s a waste to bury it. Where would Nepeta even bury it? The trailer is dark which means the Leijons and their respective clowns must still be next door. You move toward the trailer in the shadows and scan the yard but there aren’t any mounds of dirt or covered patches. So the Book of Minos isn’t buried in the yard.

You’ll have to think like a Leijon for this. Nepeta wasn’t comfortable having the book in the house but she wouldn’t give it to anyone. You look around the back of the trailer. There’s a grill and chairs chained to the back but nothing that would be a good hiding spot for a grimoire. Then you notice a large rock blocking part of the trailer’s bottom board. Moving the heavy rock reveals a hole and inside a metal box. Taking a deep breath (and hoping not to touch anything icky), you drag out of the box and open it. The Book of Minos is inside, pristine and wrapped in newspaper.

You never got a long look at the book or its sordid rituals. You’ll just have a good look at it and put it back. Eventually. You place the box and rock back and run back home, which is still dark. You go the egg room and lay on the mattress, flipping through the pages. The book is far more precise with its rituals than your Traditionalist grimoires and far bloodier.

 

 

You find the familiar page detailing the ritual that Rose picked out. The Old Alternian written here is an old dialect full of archaic terms and words but the English translations are incorrect. For one thing, in the English ritual ‘demon’ or ‘malignant spirits’ are being invoked, translating for the Old Alternian word _ko maunus._ You know for a fact that _ko maunus_ means something closer to a vagrant and forgotten ancestral god or spirit; not even close to a demon. Frustrated, you locate a pen and pencil and start making your own translations. An hour later you come up with the improved translation.

“ _I come before you, shadows of my ancestors, of the lowest realm, of cleansing waters, of the great Infernal One, his child, and all the courts beneath his will to hear my prayer._ ” you read, “ _I shed blood and ask you to open the mouth. Let the blood flow as proof of our fellowship. Let the health and wellness of another be healed._ ”

You shudder but you keep reading and retranslating. You don’t know who ‘E.L.’ is but they did a piss-poor job of translating Old Alternian. Most of the English is confounded or makes wrong assumptions. No wonder things went horribly wrong. It takes another hour but you retranslate the entire ritual and realize how wrong you all were.

The ritual isn’t a demonic summoning. It’s meant to lay down the grounds of a sacrificial area. It also isn’t a group ritual but a one-on-one arrangement.

“ _For each wish made, blood of equal amount must be offered into the holy grounds,_ ” You read, “ _for in the domain of the Panderer, all flesh has its price. For the ill to be cured, another must be made sick. For a life to be saved, another taken.”_

A chill goes through you when you read that. You immediately shut the book and can’t even bear to look at it.

The ritual failed not just because of a bastardized translation but because you offered the wrong thing. Latula is far too ill for a cup of mixed blood to repair the damage. A person must be offered up and they were…the DD through his own hubris became a sacrifice. Now the forces in the sinkhole may be sated.

You take a deep breath. Shakily, you pick up the Book of Minos again. You wrap a blanket around you and move to the front of the book. You start retranslating the first pages. On the fifth page is an ink and watercolor picture of a plant. The grimoire lists it as _The Opener of the Eye;_ a plant to be consumed that awakens spiritual power by confronting all your fears at once.

…you _do_ have a suppressive amount of fear. What would happen if you were to face them all at once? Would you die? Would you _want_ to die? You’re intimidated but fear’s always been your greatest weakness. Fear has kept you from reaching your potential not just as a violetblood but as a troll. Do you want to be like your father: wallowing in the miserable past because there’s nothing to look forward to for the future? What will happen to you in the future if something happens to your home or Sollux or Kanaya?

No. You can do this. You can face your fears. You will be strong and if not for your sake, then for your children’s sake.

You don’t want to destroy the book so you take a picture of the plant with your iHusk for later taxonomic discovery. Hopefully it’s not extinct. You work late into the night and eventually fall asleep. When you wake up, it’s to the sound of Sollux talking. You stash the book in the bottom dresser hidden under a spare blanket and open the door.

Sollux is muttering into the phone. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fine.” He hangs up and looks at you. “You’re up early.”

“Yeah,” You mumble, rubbing your eyes, “who was on the phone?”

“Terezi.” Sollux inhales slowly. “Insurance guys caved in. They agreed to pay for Mom to stay in the hospital and be on dialysis. The doctors will have to see if they can purge the cadmium from her system. If not, they’ll have to grow new kidneys. It won’t be cheap but there’s payment plans and…it’s a step in the right direction. She’s…going to get help.”

He looks like he could crumble to ash saying that. He’s been holding in all his feelings about Latula for so long and now he doesn’t know what to do. You know it’s breaking a caliginous rule but you hug him because you know how hard it’s been. Sollux is surprised but he doesn’t push you away. He shudders, struggles, and finally just gives the fuck up and cries in relief. He knows you won’t tell anyone this happen and you won’t bring it up ever again.

It’s just something a good kismesis has to do sometimes.

Then he moves away from you and it’s over just as quickly. “I need to tell Karkat. And Fef. And…shit, _everyone_.”

You nod. “Yeah. You should.”

You go back to the kid’s room and uncover the Book of Minos; heart thundering in your chest.

 _This is a sign,_ it thumps, _This is a sign._

You rewrote the words and something changed. You’ve stumbled onto something powerful. Maybe this is what you were destined for? Maybe you weren’t meant for Blood and Haze but for other, higher powers.

You continue retranslating.

 


End file.
